


The Strength In Tears

by PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess



Series: Endless Possibilities [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/F, F/M, Issue #7 has concluded with various trials and tribulations, Miss Pauling has lost her sense of identity and self, Multi, Scout finally sees the Gay(TM), Soldier is a ray of military sunshine, The Administrator is dead, Zhanna realises her hostility was misplaced, cute moments, hoping they're in character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 04:29:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11051343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess/pseuds/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess
Summary: After the conclusion of their trials and tribulations, when all is said and done; the Administrator is gone, and Miss Pauling is left without direction. Zhanna is approached by an unlikely source, and urged to re-evaluate a situation she had misinterpreted; and help the beleaguered purple assassin...





	The Strength In Tears

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Freshsalad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freshsalad/gifts).



> ...imagine if you made a masterlist of TF2 pairings (excluding any OTP or OT3 where Spy/Scout was possible), and tried to write a fic for all of them with help from your amazing artist friend (Freshsalad/Camiluna27). 
> 
> That's what this is. We're collaborating on random headcanons for each pairing, behold... 
> 
> [Miss Pauling is canonically gay, and this was written in respect to those circumstances; also she deserves love, affection and some godamn downtime... I would fist-fight the Administrator or Saxton Hale to get her a holiday.]

There had always been animosity between them; rather one-sided, if truth be told, and for no reason either could properly name.   
Zhanna had simply… taken a dislike to Miss Pauling the moment she laid eyes on the purple-clad assassin; there was some strange thought in her mind, when she saw the smaller woman, one that told her to be wary. And she had heeded it well, despite the disquiet that such actions wrought.

 

And yet, even though she accidentally killed the Pauling woman once, it had not been held against her. Zhanna had begun to like the woman’s attitude of practicality, even if she had felt it rather shameless that Pauling would _dare_ ogle her Soldier’s honey-coated nudity during battle. Had said so to the woman, in fact.

It had been a surprise to have the little loud one, _the Scout who followed Miss Pauling like pet bear_ , be the one to mention the truth to her. He had come, for no reason other than to offer her a bottle of water; maybe sent by another mercenary, perhaps of his own will, who could tell his motivations?

Still, the boy saw her gaze harden as Miss Pauling spoke with Soldier across the way… and his own expression grew annoyed. Like he wished to say something unkind, but could not bring himself to do so…

 

How interesting. Before, when offered sex, he could not be silent for more than a second… and yet now when he clearly held something bitter to say, the Scout was quiet. They simply stared at one another for a moment, before his hands unclenched; and he eventually sighed. “Look, I dunno why ya hate Miss P, ‘cause she’s super sweet and awesome and all kinds'a badass… but she… well, let’s say she wasn’t staring at _Soldier,_ alright? And yeah, I heard all about that crap when we got back, in weirdly vivid detail so don’t tell me I couldn’t know 'cause I wasn’t there the whole time.”

She raises an eyebrow.

So he adds, “She uh… y'know, can never like someone _like me_ … even if I had a heck of a crush on her. Still do, sorta. But ya should have seen her face when she saw, uh…” he makes a gesture encompassing all of Zhanna, and impressing the concept he’d seen her naked and honey-coated but wasn’t willing to say so out-loud for some reason.

It was certainly… a different perspective on the situation.

 

“She… was not looking at Soldier?” she questions, to clarify.

“Heh, _not in this universe_ , I promise. So just… maybe ease up on her, or something? The Administrator’s real fucking tough on her most of the time, she barely gets to sleep or eat and only gets one day off a year… I dunno how she hasn’t dropped dead of stress…” he pauses, “Though we do have respawn, and she’s probably hooked into it, so it doesn’t matter if she does… the Admin doesn’t like to waste good employees or whatever…”

This was definitely new information, Zhanna would have to consider this further. She puts a hand on his shoulder, the only one she still has actually, and smiles. “You have my thanks, tiny loud one. May your efforts at gaining the attention of your teammate be  successful.”

She walks determinedly away towards Soldier, leaving the runner spluttering denials behind her. Perhaps she was not the only one who had needed to hear the truth this day.

 

 

Indeed, the trials they had faced already seemed so paltry in comparison to what had occurred next. The loss of her hand, their deaths and the sudden return to life… none of it mattered. What the Administrator woman had unleashed on them all had been utterly… _indescribable_.

The only good point of the whole situation was Zhanna being able to see, for herself, the way Miss Pauling reacted when accosted by a beautiful woman. It was somehow humorous to note that a woman who could calmly lecture and degrade dying enemies… was unable to hide her shock and delight at encountering someone she was emotionally invested in, and yet hopelessly attracted to.

Zhanna had been briefly concerned the other was liable to pass out in shock, when the Engineer and Administrator entered their temporary shelter that day; before all went straight to hell. The surprise of all the mercenaries, her dear Soldier included, was tangible; but Miss Pauling was clearly most affected.

She also seemed quite distressed by this turn of events; the reality of why had not become apparent to Zhanna until after all had come to its natural, hardwon, conclusion. When all debts had been settled, their enemies lay lifeless around them… and the Administrator took the final breath of a life that had lasted far, far longer than any mortal’s should. Surrounded by her mercenaries, and clasping the hand of a young woman in purple garb who seemed utterly unable to let go until long after the woman had gone; when Miss Pauling  was carefully pried away by the Medic and Zhanna's brother, the Heavy. 

It was then she knew, and understood why… the fear and loss etched into the young face of Miss Pauling upon first sighting the Administrator. Though Zhanna had not seen her before, it was understood she had been elderly, ancient, and her appearance suitably similar to match. This new, youthful, beautiful face… it was as much a warning as the pretty colourings of poisonous frogs or sea creatures.

It was then, that Zhanna understood her own self, more fully. That is to say, her heart ached oddly to see the tear-stained expression Miss Pauling wore on that day… the strong desire to comfort her surged through her veins. And when Miss Pauling excused herself, leaving the solemn mercenaries to briefly glance after her, before returning to their odd little groupings; something changed. The Scout looked like he would go after her, but the masked father restrained such an action with a hand; shaking his head to advise the action would be unwelcome.

To his credit, the Scout did not chase after the retreating assassin, at least; though he looked directly across the room to Zhanna. Their eyes met, and she felt him plead with her… because they both knew that Zhanna would be far more welcome than he, at such an emotionally delicate time. Though, in truth, the Russian hesitated.

 

Emotions, comforting… these were things _Misha_ did; even now 'Heavy’ was checking with the other smaller men, ascertaining all was well. She had envied that, when they were younger; but also mocked him in the way siblings did, for being so sensitive about everyone’s needs and thoughts. The value of such a personality is lost on children, but could mean everything to the more mature. Only now did Zhanna wish to be more like Misha in that area; though they were closely matched in all else, from strength and size to brutality and loyalty.

She glanced to Soldier, beside her. He was half-listening to Demo and Engineer speaking; but turned his head her way at her movement.   
Many would not credit her Jane as a smart man, for he yelled and showed such reckless enthusiasm about many things; but Zhanna knew different.

Soldier said many things, and some were odd, yes, but many tended to be meaningful. He simply communicated differently, as one would expect after the life he had led; she never tired of his stories, and always matched them with her own. Jane liked the one about her first bear hunt, at age five, the most; said it was 'adorable’.

He was clever, exciting, and passionate in the bedroom, too; she had never regretted her choice. Sometimes she did wonder how things would have changed if the loud Scout had managed to keep quiet long enough… but, that was a problem for an alternate version of herself, in another universe. The Zhanna in this one, here and now, tilted her head at Soldier; expressing to him, without words, her intentions. And he, in response, nodded curtly; with a pat on her arm to signify that he understood.

She flashed a brief smile, and turned away. Striding past the other gathered men and after Miss Pauling; whose trail was not the most difficult to follow, despite the many twisting corridors and staircases of this metallic base. Eventually, they all converged on a cavernous room half-filled with consoles and monitors. All blinking various scenes in black-and-white; some reading 'Error’ in stark lettering, and others blank. None showed any signs of life, save one in the far right-hand corner, which recorded the room they were just in…

 

In the centre of the room stood a sizeable black command chair, with a large oak desk before it, with overflowing filing cabinets lining the walls. A small microphone sprung up from the wooden surface… Zhanna only noticed because a slender, pale arm half-clad in purple was beside it, drawing her eye like a magnet. She moved forwards to find Miss Pauling curled into the large leather throne, half-slumped on the desk before it. Sobbing quietly, desolately; like only the heart-broken… or the grief-stricken, could.

Zhanna felt her heart… ache?  
The pit of her stomach felt hollow, yet roiling; as if she wanted to fight whoever had caused this woman’s pain, remove her anguish with both Russian fists and ward it off forevermore. It worked with most problems Zhanna and her family had faced.  ' _Many fists make short work of a foe_ ’  her mamushka always said with a smile.

 

She takes a step towards the other, and the sound of her footfall registers with Miss Pauling; the purple-clad woman jerks upright, sniffing and hastily scrubbing at the tears trailing furrows down her far-too-pale face.   
“I’m-… I’m alright Scout, thanks for coming after me but I don’t want to… talk…” she trails off, realising her quiet grieving had not been interrupted by the concerned runner, but rather… by an unexpected person altogether.

“I am not the loud little one, Pauling… but I share his concerns for you.” Zhanna bridges the silence, moving closer. She crouches by the chair, placing them at eye-height, with what she hoped was a comforting smile adorning her face…

“Wh-what are you-…?” Miss Pauling questions, not having realised the animosity between them had cooled, been replaced with something far more positive.

Zhanna placed her hand on the other’s arm, feeling pleased when the other didn’t jerk away. “You have lost someone dear to you, and do not need to hide your tears. Even if I did not feel the way I do for you, I would still come… say comforting things.”

 

Miss Pauling didn’t seem to know how to respond to that statement. She just stared, occasionally sniffling, clearly trying to regulate her breathing and stem the tears that she couldn’t seem to stop.

Zhanna continued, trying her best to be soothing. “When someone you care for is gone, it hurts us inside where no one can see… if you do not let it out in the right way, you will stay hurt for a long time, and I do not wish this for you Little Pauling. You do too much alone, and I want to… _help_ you. _Listen_ to the things that make you cry…”

She’s fumbling slightly, her words could be so eloquent in Russian, and yet in English they came out so bland. “I mean to say, that I have feelings for you… they make me want to tell you everything will be alright, hold you, and kill anyone who dares to infringe upon that promise. Your smile… makes my heart glow, like when Soldier shouts sweet things at me, or when he uses his tongue to-…”

Miss Pauling cuts her off with a quick, “Thank you for y-your concerns Zhanna, but I’m f-f-fine…”

 

Zhanna laughs, not unkindly, but clearly in contest of the statement. “You are crying, alone and away from comfort. That is not fine by any standard, Miss Pauling… so I have come to you, to listen and take the pain from your heart. I am strong, I can help you carry this burden until this has heavy-heart time has passed, da?”

Miss Pauling looked exhausted, but oddly grateful if not a little bit confused. “You… you want to hear me cry over the Administrator’s death? Wh-why? I mean, I kn-know she wasn’t the nicest, especially not to m-me but she was all I knew f-for so long…” the purple-clad assassin stutters out, around wheezy sobs, looking all the more frustrated by this uncontrollable display of emotion.

“I was The Assistant f-for so long… n-now what am I? And h-how pathetic is it that she’s dead, b-but all I can th-think about is mys-self? And I can’t st-stop crying, this is so _stupid_ …” she slams her hands on the table, frustrated. “I’m so-… s-so stupid, I’ve killed and buried s-so many people, s-sanded off their fingerprints and sma-smashed in their teeth… and yet, this one d-death has brought me to th-this t-teary mess?”

 

She laughed in such a hollow, self-deprecating way, that it almost physically pained Zhanna to hear it. She wanted to smack the sound right out of Miss Pauling’s mouth, stamp it into the ground and carry the woman away from such incorrect ideologies. But still, she stayed firmly in her place; letting the other speak her mind for the moment. This was necessary, catharsis, healing begun.

“The Administrator… was the closest thing I h-had to family… even if it got a little weird a-at the end because she used the aust-Australium to become… young and b-beautiful again…” Miss Pauling’s fervour is starting to drain, and she’s slumping back in the chair, leaning more weight onto the comforting grip of Zhanna’s hand.   
“A-and now she’s gone… and wh-what am I but some crying w-weakling? J-just sitting here s-sobbing like a child, in th-the only place that feels s-safe? F-familiar?”

Then Miss Pauling fell silent, with only the few strangled sobs she couldn’t prevent from escaping, echoing in the room between them. After a moment, realising all had been said and done, that Miss Pauling’s dark thoughts had finally been freed, Zhanna stood up.

 

She did not ask, but instead picked up the other; holding her carefully, in a grip both gentle and firm, but close. The other was either too stunned, or too worn out to protest; but Zhanna took it as a hopeful sign when the small, delicate, death-dealing hands tentatively clutched onto the fabric of her top.

Like a-… _the Australian bear babies_ , yes? She could not think of the word just now…

 

It felt right, to have the smaller so close; where Zhanna knew she was safe, in her arms. With a slight hesitation, the Russian stroked Miss Pauling’s dark hair; it was slightly tangled from their trials, but still soft enough. “Hush now, little _Fioletovyy_ , things will be alright in the days to come… but you must let the hurt go, now, in whatever way works for you. Tears, words, sparring, anything that helps you move through them; to know pain, understand and move past it… that is true strength.”

Zhanna gently places a kiss on the top of Miss Pauling’s head. “You are not weak, little Pauling… you are very strong, always have been. But you have been brave for such a long time, it can be hard to realise it is okay to let someone else in, to let them carry burden with you until you feel better, da?”

 

Miss Pauling had looked up at her in surprise the minute the other woman’s gentle kiss had registered. Eyes wide, a little shocked; and a faint flush on her face that was unlikely to be based in her grief over the loss of the Administrator and, to an extent, her identity.  
“R-really?” she asked, then scrunched up her face, wrinkling her nose cutely, as if horrified to have asked something so childish. “I mean, Zhanna I-… I just feel so… I don’t know… lost or empty or… like nothing is real?”

“Do you feel me holding you, little _Fioletovyy_? My arms are real, the warmth between us is real… and my concern that you have lost your smile, is real. The affection I feel, is real, even though I know it does not cancel out the loss you are experiencing…” Zhanna soothes, rubbing the other upon the back as the last of her stuttered sobs peter out.

Miss Pauling’s expression is hard to describe; the trail of tears upon her face shimmered in the dim light, and yet, underneath that, something had changed. The grief was there… but something approaching a shy, tentative hope, a longing was beneath that, plain in her eyes.

“You… really mean that, don’t you?” she sniffs, the beginnings of a smile gracing her wan features. “I thought you… d-didn’t like me because you assumed I liked Soldier…”

 

“Indeed, I did not. But, I have been wrong before… I misunderstood, until someone pointed it out my error; though it pained them to do so.” Zhanna admits. “No matter, the past is completed and we cannot return there… the _here and now_ is most important. I am hopeful that both my present and future will have you in them, Miss Pauling… though I will understand if you feel otherwise about this as I have been curt.”

“But… what about Soldier, aren’t you t-two-…?” queries Miss Pauling, expression closing off as reality begins to seep back in.

“Da, I love Soldier and will not leave him… but it does not mean I cannot love you too, little Pauling. Jane does not mind, and will not ask anything of you…” Zhanna reassures, knowing Soldier well enough to promise this. “I have enough love for two people, and you are welcome to be part of such if you wish it… my actions in the past were due to confusion over my feelings, my… fear of losing Soldier to you. As you are pretty and merciless, which are traits he finds endearing… as do I.”  
She laughs, “I see now I have been foolish… but no matter. Let me be your strength for now, and you can make a decision when you are settled… when your thoughts are not clouded by grief.”

 

“ _No._ ” Miss Pauling interjects, and Zhanna felt her heart drop. It must have shown on her face because Miss Pauling immediately follows it with, “I-I mean, _no… I don’t need time…_ I’ve wanted-… that is to say, I’ve liked-… _yes_ , please. _Just don’t… let go of me yet, please…_ ”   
She pauses, and laughs before saying, “I know it sounds so corny b-but the world doesn’t feel so vast and empty, when you’re holding me… and I-… thank you. For coming after me, and knowing what to… say or do or whatever this it… I needed it.”

Zhanna smiles, “I will always be there, when you need it… little _Fioletovyy_ …” Zhanna reassures.

“What does that mean?” Miss Pauling queries, suddenly aware of how close they were, how easy it would be to just move closer a fraction and… press their lips against the other’s.

“Hmmm, it is Russian for… I believe the word is 'Violet' in English? It is what I think of when I see you… and so, I could not help it. If it bothers you, I can choose another-…” Zhanna pauses because Miss Pauling is laughing.

“Oh, oh no, I like it…. it’s just, you-…” she pauses to giggle, “you wouldn’t believe this but my… my name is actually… Violet Pauling.”

Zhanna beams, “Then it must be fate, then…”

“Y…Yes, I suppose it must be.” Miss Pauling smiles back. She looks tired, exhausted by the trials and tribulations of the day, the last week, the entire year of chaos since Team Fortress disbanded… but somehow, radiant as well.

 

Without another word, Miss Pauling closes the gap between them, and it is even more delightful a moment than Zhanna could have ever anticipated. Different to Jane, and yet, just as right.

Perfect.

Miss Pauling moves away first, resting her head on the broad Russian shoulders before her. She didn’t seem in a hurry to do anything, much less leave the careful embrace Zhanna held her in.

“Thank you.” whispers Miss Pauling, but then lifts her head to look at Zhanna more clearly. A thought worrying at her. “And… you’re sure Soldier is fine with… us? I don’t like… I mean, he’s lovely but I’m not attracted to-…”

 

“ _Commander Miss Pauling_ , you are not required to find my person physically attractive nor do anything involving it, should you choose not to.” Soldier says, as he moves inside the room. Clearly having been worried about the extended absence of the pair, and followed them; waiting outside the door until it was appropriate to interject. “You are a superior officer, and I will follow your directions to the letter. As long as you are fine with sharing this glorious creature with me, have had all your shots, don’t mind sharing household duties amongst us… or the occasional visit from Merasmus, then we will be a highly successful tactical unit!”

Miss Pauling was staring at him, questioning how he’d appeared so suddenly, as if saying his name three times in their previous conversation had somehow summoned him. Then her formidable mind caught up with the flurry of words she’d just weathered. “As long as you’re okay with it too, Soldier, I’m fine with i-… wait, _why_ do I need all my vaccinations?”

“Raccoons.” Zhanna deadpans into her ear, the warm breath making her shiver. Soldier flushed under his helmet as Miss Pauling shuddered, and he averted his gaze.

 

“Ah, if you two have completed your emotional mission debrief, the others wish me to inform you that we are planning to go back to basecamp at Teufort, to formulate our next move forward.” Soldier adds, standing there stock still until Zhanna gestures with an arm for him to come closer.

With an arm supporting Miss Pauling’s entire weight, she wraps the other around Soldier; Jane clearly hesitates, until he sees Miss Pauling isn’t trying to get away, before reciprocating and accidentally partially-squishing her in the middle. Zhanna kisses him, then Miss Pauling once more, and laughs.

 

“Today has been a good day of many victories,” she says, smiling down at Miss Pauling, as Soldier releases the pair. The purple-clad woman slips down from her previous position, and stands, wobbling slightly, on the floor between the pair.

Each place an arm on her back to steady her, not wanting to remove her autonomy, but rather support it. A lot of their trials had hit the woman pretty hard, and even the love Zhanna felt for her, and the admiration Soldier had always shown towards Miss Pauling, would not heal it automatically.

They followed Miss Pauling as she walked out of the room, maintaining contact even as she paused to look back; to let her eyes wander over the familiar, metallic room, for the last time. She took a deep breath, placed a hand on each of the supporting arms, and continued forwards. Ready for the unknown, to find out what the future held.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus:
> 
> Zhanna felt, as the days grew long at the new base and all 'planning’ tended to end up in circuitous arguments over who had to do what chore that week, that she was quite content.
> 
> Miss Pauling was excellent in many ways, and Soldier was also magnificent in his own way. They coexisted well, for her.
> 
> Yet she felt… a burden, a debt unpaid, so to speak. She could feel it on the one who had helped them become this unit, who still sometimes looked upon her little Fioletovyy with distant longing.  
> Though, Zhanna felt it was more for what the woman had, than the lingering remnants of a past crush.
> 
> She decided, as was fair, to even things out.
> 
> One night, without warning, she seized the tiny loud one; he squirmed but she held fast, hushing him. Zhanna carried him outside, wrenched open the door of the van, and tossed the Scout in…
> 
> “What the bloody hell?” yelled the occupant.
> 
> “Zhanna, what-…? Snipes, I-…” Scout shouted back.
> 
> Zhanna briefly placed herself in the doorway, looking at the pile of limbs on the floor and simply stated, “Little loud one has strong feelings for you, and would very much like to do the sex with you… please discuss this and be happy.”
> 
> She looked directly at Scout, “My debt to you has been repaid. I wish you joy.”
> 
> And so saying, she slammed the door shut, pushing a nearby boulder over the entrance, as chaos erupted inside. Let them take the time to work it out…
> 
> When she smugly removed the boulder in the morning, both appeared rather dishevelled and wouldn’t meet her eyes. Her debt had been repaid, indeed.


End file.
